


Hey, Arthur, I Know What We're Gonna Do Today!

by Emachinescat



Category: Merlin (TV), Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Crossover, Friendship, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-13
Updated: 2011-07-13
Packaged: 2018-01-13 18:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1236232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emachinescat/pseuds/Emachinescat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Merlin and friends get hit with a "young-inator," the boys turn their backyard into Camelot, Morgana smirks, Merlin's secret is revealed, and a disheartened Gwaine discovers that ginger ale and root beer can't get you drunk. Chaos and fun ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oops - Wrong Spell!

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own either, for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> Enjoy. :)

Arthur and Merlin were running. Again. They ran a lot, and not because they needed the exercise or because they  _liked_  blisters on their feet and calluses between their toes, but because they were always getting into some form of trouble. They had been chased by just about everything – magical creatures, bandits, soldiers, wild animals, thieves, sorcerers, and who knows what else. They had even chased each other around but usually in that case they weren't running for their lives – unless Arthur was chasing Merlin because he'd called him a prat again. Then Merlin was more than likely running for his life.

This time, however, it was not just the two of them running from the immortal army (really, you would think that after last time Morgana would have grown tired of undead men after her last plot, although this time Merlin hadn't had time to get the sword from the stone to kill the monsters, so he and his friends were at a disadvantage at the moment). Uther was cowering somewhere in his castle and Morgana had vowed to come back for him, knowing he wouldn't have the courage to run away. Gaius was with him, trying to make sure he didn't have another breakdown because of the stress.

The immortal army had charged for the  _real_  threats and those threats were currently dashing away from the undead folk that were hot on their heels – Merlin was in the lead, followed closely by Lancelot and Gwaine, who had Gwen sandwiched protectively between them. Arthur was in the rear, slashing away futilely with his sword ( _not_  the sword that could kill dead things, unfortunately) whenever he got the chance. Morgana was leading the undead army and was right on their heels.

Merlin knew that they were in a pickle, although how he knew what a pickle was when he lived in the middle ages, the world may never know. And it was a rather sizeable pickle indeed. He had to do something t get them away, out of the reach of the immortals, or they would all be doomed. He glanced behind him, seeing that no one was paying him any attention, not even Lancelot, who had his arm around Gwen's waist, keeping her steady, and a dreamy expression on his face. Gwaine was running and trying to dig out his last flask of ale at the same time, resulting in him almost pulling Gwen and Lancelot down with him. Arthur wasn't paying attention because he was too busy dodging Morgana's fireballs (which was probably a good thing considering that Lancelot was blushing as he held Gwen's hand to help her keep up.

Deciding that no one was going to notice him doing magic, Merlin thought for a second and then shot off the first spell he could think of – and unfortunately, he hadn't quite mastered this particular spell and may have possibly mis-said a word (or five). But what difference would a few syllables make? He asked himself dubiously.

He would soon find out.

Under his breath he muttered, " _Cymryd pob un ohon sy'n byw oddi yma I danvillewch!_ " On second thought, maybe it was "ddiogelwch" not "danvillewch" but the damage had already been done. The spell had called for every living being nearby to be taken far away to safety – and although she was evil, Morgana was still living.

And of course, there was still the matter of Merlin getting the words mixed up…

As everything within a thirty foot radius was consumed by a blinding rainbow light, spraying a plethora of colors across the land and making everyone screw their eyes tight at the pulsing light, Merlin came to the realization that they would just have to wait and see where his spell took them…

He could only hope it would be somewhere they could get back from easily.

* * *

It was a normal day in Danville. The sun had been shining for thirty minutes and already ten-year-old Phineas Flynn and his green-haired stepbrother of the same age, Ferb Fletcher, had drawn up blueprints for their newest invention – a device that could make someone age or de-age with a push of a button. This was a little less intense than what they had done yesterday, their molecular separator, but it would still give them something to work on for an hour or two before they moved onto something else.

The whole Flynn-Fletcher family was sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast. Linda, the mom, was attempting to chat with her husband about some new earrings she had spotted at a garage sale but Lawrence, whom she had met on a trip to Britain and fallen in love with, married, and then brought him back to the States, was wrapped up in a book. Candace, who was sixteen, had her bubblegum pink cell phone propped by her scrambled eggs, eyes darting continuously back and forth between food and phone. She kept muttering under her breath about when Jer-Bear was going to call, but her family mostly ignored her. They were used to her psychotic ramblings by now. Goodness knows that  _this_  was  _normal_  behavior for Candace! Their pet platypus, Perry, was munching away on Premium Platypus Chow right next to Ferb's seat.

Phineas, who had a shock of fiery red hair similar to his sister's (but spikier) looked up from his Cheerios and glanced over at his father. "Hey, Dad, watch'a reading?"

Lawrence looked up from his book, almost as if surprised to see he had a family sitting at the table with him, and smiled enthusiastically. "Sorry, all," he apologized. "This, Phineas, is a book about Arthurian legend."

Candace scoffed. "Oh, right, all that boring stuff Grandpa and Grandma like to go on about every time we go to visit them in England. King Artie and the knights of the brown table."

"Actually, it's King  _Arthur_  and the knights of the  _round_  table," their dad corrected but Candace had already tuned him out and withdrawn into her own little world, staring fixatedly at her cell phone with bug eyes almost as if she expected it to come to life and do a little jig. That had happened once, actually, when her brothers had made a machine that could turn any inanimate object into a disco-dancing pro. And that was one of the more _normal_  things they'd done this summer. And people wondered why her stress level was so high for someone so young…

"He hasn't called me yet, and it's eight o'clock AM. I wonder if that's boyfriend code for playing hard to get or we need to talk…"

Linda glanced up from her own food and rolled her eyes in direction but didn't comment. She had learned that unless she wanted to turn gray ten times faster than she already was, she'd steer clear of Candace's "moments."

"Oh, cool!" Phineas exclaimed. "I remember Gramps telling us all about those stories. Arthur was the greatest king to ever live, wasn't he?"

"Many great leaders of today have modeled many of their political policies around King Arthur's rein," their father informed them. "Although sadly his story had a tragic ending…"

"What, someone steal his crown?" Candace snapped before tittering, "I think I should text him first, that shows I've got initiative, right? Or maybe it just says 'clingy'…"

"Actually, no," Linda jumped in on the conversation. Having a history buff for a husband meant she knew all of this stuff, too. "His best friend and his wife fell in love and he found out. It destroyed him."

Candace jumped out of her seat, eyes wide with panic. "Oh,  _NO!_ " she wailed dramatically. " _That's_  it! Jeremy's got another girlfriend, that's why he hasn't texted!" She ran out of the room, sobbing. "Why?  _Why?_ "

Silence reigned for a few precious seconds and then Phineas glanced at his brother and grinned. "Well, the story may not have a happy ending, but all  _kinds_  of cool stuff happened in between, right? Like jousting tournaments, melees, damsels in distress, fights to the death, fire-breathing dragons, swords in stones—"

"And of course the greatest magician of all time – Merlin," Lawrence put in.

Phineas grinned. "Right. The guy with the beard that told King Arthur what to do." Phineas's eyes lit up. "Hey, Ferb. Why don't we put our other plans on hold? I know what we're gonna do today instead!"

Ferb (who didn't talk much) gave his stepbrother two thumbs up.

"Ferb, you've said it – we're going to make a medieval world in the backyard – we'll have jousting and a castle and a dragon…"

Linda smiled patronizingly at her sons. "Okay, boys, have fun." She chuckled fondly as the boys leapt from the table and dashed out the door. She grinned at her husband. "Kids," she smiled, "and their imaginations." She sighed and got up, grabbing Lawrence's barely touched dishes and headed to the sink. "Okay, I'm going to the flea market to see if they've still got those earrings and then Mrs. Garcia and I are going to get our hair and nails done. You'll watch the boys today?"

Lawrence's eyes darted up fractionally from his story about Sir Gawain and the Green Knight and he nodded. "Of course, dear."

Linda smirked. "And make sure Candace doesn't drive herself or anyone else crazy."

"Yes, dear."

She rolled her eyes. "And if a giant meatball falls from the sky, make sure you move the house out of the way."

"Right-O, darling."

She sighed, knowing her husband wasn't paying a lick of attention. "Right. Bye, dear."

As she strode out she heard Lawrence responding to her last comment distractedly. "Third drawer down next to the pickled eggs."

She really wasn't sure she wanted to know what he had thought she had said.

* * *

They all landed in a heap in the middle of a grassy field. Merlin, it seemed, still had terrible luck, even in wherever it was they had appeared, for he was at the very bottom of the pile. It would have been bad enough to be squashed by Arthur, the "fat prat" as Merlin liked to tease him when he was being particularly prattish, but adding Gwaine, Lancelot, Guinevere, and (he groaned) Morgana only made it worse. He could barely breathe.

One by one they clambered to their feet as best they could until finally the crushing weight was off Merlin, who didn't move. He didn't think he  _could_  move. He was pretty sure he had succeeded in becoming completely stuck to the earth's surface. Arthur rolled his eyes at his servant before bending over and peeling the boy off the grass before regarding him strangely. "You look thinner than ever, Merlin, have you been eating?"

Merlin gaped. "We've just somehow traveled by magic and you're asking me if I've been eating?"

Arthur shrugged. "Yes, yes I did."

Merlin blinked. "Okay." He glanced at Arthur. "You're looking a little thin, too."

Gwen gasped. "Why do I feel so… two dimensional?"

"How do we even know what 2-D  _is_?" Lancelot wondered, gazing around in wonder as strange, colorful beasts on black wheels roamed what appeared to be solid black rivers. Houses, but none like in Camelot, lined the black river with white lines down the middle.

"I wonder where the tavern is," Gwaine said a little wistfully.

"Where  _are_  we?" Arthur growled. "And how did we get here?" He glared at Morgana, who had been standing stock still, eyes roving about frantically, at their new surroundings. "Did  _you_  do this?" he snarled. " _You_  brought us here!"

Morgana glared at him. "Why would I do  _that_? I had an undead army about to demolish you. Why would I whisk you away to somewhere so… un-dangerous?"

Arthur scowled. "Who knows what goes on in your  _foul little mind_ , she-witch!"

Morgana rolled her eyes. "Cut the theatrics, please, Arthur. The point is, I didn't bring us here. I'm just as miffed and startled by this as you are."

"But if you didn't…" Gwaine wondered, still looking around for the tavern, "…then who did… and why?"

Merlin put his hands in his pockets and began to whistle nonchalantly and everyone stared at him. "Er… when in doubt, whistle a merry tune?" he suggested lamely, realizing his attempt at being "casual" had only brought more attention to himself. "One of Gaius's many ancient proverbs…?" Everyone else lost interest except for Lancelot, who eyed Merlin suspiciously. He was the only one here that knew Merlin had magic and so he had probably already figured out  _who_  and was trying to decipher the  _why._

"Maybe… whoever did this meant to take us somewhere safe but accidentally brought us… here?" he suggested. Lancelot sighed and rubbed his temples. Merlin blushed.

Gwen stood up straighter and grabbed both Lancelot and Arthur's hands under the guise of being terrified (although the most terrifying thing here was Morgana, and she was currently in shock and not up to doing much evil at the moment) and asked, "Where  _is_  here?"

"Danville," Arthur supplied instantly.

Gwaine turned from his 'tavern-hunt' and stared. "You know everything, don't you?" He turned to Merlin. "How is it that  _he_ knows  _everything_?"

Merlin pointed behind Gwaine, trying not to breathe too much of his ale-and-pickled-egg-breath. "I think he looked at the sign."

Gwaine looked over. A large white sign read "WELCOME TO DANVILLE." Gwaine nodded. "Ah." He glanced around. "Well, while we're here, we may as well have some fun, eh?" He grinned. He nodded at a little building across the black river where some of the metal beasts (which held people inside of them, how strange!) were getting fed through a hole in their sides from a giant contraption that said "GAS HERE." A sign in the window of the shop said "Ginger Ale and Root Beer – Half Off." Of course, Gwaine only saw the beer and ale part and was instantly besotted.

"Drinks, anyone? It's on Arthur."

Arthur glared at the knight and Gwaine grinned. Feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on, Arthur nodded. "Right. Drinks." He fumed at his knight. "On me."

Gwaine just laughed.

* * *

After everyone but Lawrence had left the kitchen, Perry the Platypus was jerked out of a sleepy stupor when his platypus bed flipped over and propelled him down a secret tunnel hidden under the house, down a slide slicked with what smelled like fish oil, and out of a tube, landing with a thud in his red swivel chair in front of a giant screen. He sniffed his arm, blanched, and glared at the gray haired man, his superior, Major Monogram, on the the screen. Perry did not look amused.

Perry was actually a secret agent animal that worked undercover fighting crime. His code name was Agent P and he was the best of the best.

Monogram winced. "Sorry, Agent P, but  _Carl_ ," he glared at the red-haired intern that had just strode into sight next to him, "forgot to go grocery shopping this morning and we ran out of butter. So we had to slick the slide with fish oil." Perry didn't look impressed.

Carl, a nasally, red-haired college student with thick glasses and freckles all over his face, whined, "I'm sorry, Major M., but  _you're_ the one who wanted me to wait in line for those Justin Bieber concert tickets all night…"

Perry raised his eyebrows. Monogram glared at Carl and snapped, "Those were for my… er… niece, Carl. I told you."

"You don't have a niece, sir," Carl informed his boss almost mournfully.

"Carl!"

Carl slunk out of Perry's line of sight and the platypus made his annoyed little gurgle. Monogram turned back to the business at hand. "Er, right – Dr. Doofenshmirtz is up to something. We know this because… well, because, he's always up to something… unless it's his day off… which it isn't… so…" Perry looked at the ceiling in exasperation. "Right – I want you to go find Doofenshmirtz, find out what he's up to, and  _stop_  him."

Perry saluted and then jumped in his little platypus-sized hovercraft as it whizzed by. Right before he was out of earshot, though, he heard Monogram say, "You  _did_  get those concert tickets, didn't you, Carl? Because I will – uh, I mean, my, er, niece, will be very disappointed if I… I mean, she, doesn't get to go…"

Perry rolled his eyes and soared out of headquarters and toward the lair of his arch-nemesis, Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz, evil super-villain wannabe extraordinaire (or not so extraordinaire, to be completely accurate).


	2. Introducing... the Young-Inator!

Gwaine was  _not_  happy.

Arthur had used a few solid gold coins that the strangely dressed person in the "gas station" had been reluctant to take until Arthur informed him that it was pure gold to buy everyone a bottle of root beer. And no matter how much of the root beer he downed, Gwaine found that he did not get drunk. In fact, all that happened was that after his fifth bottle of root beer, he felt jittery and hyper and his bladder was about to explode. Thankfully the man behind the desk told him about the wonders of indoor plumbing and directed him to a restroom. Even the swirling porcelain devices didn't make up for the fact that Gwaine was still as sober as ever, though.

When he got back from the restroom, he saw that Arthur was in the middle of a conversation with the man who worked here. "I'm just saying," the man said with a strange accent (and he was the most two-dimensional person any of them had ever met), "you don't see many people decked out in duds like that. You look like you're about to go fight a dragon. Pretty cool though."

Arthur glanced down at his chainmail and back up at the man (who Gwaine had decided was a kind of bartender) with a frown. "What's wrong with my armor? It is the finest in Camelot."

The bartender's eyes grew wide. "Oh, say no more, buddy," he grinned. He held up a piece of thin white paper with something written on it in bold letters. "I gotcha. You're here for the medieval festival that Phineas and Ferb are having, right? Lemme see…" He scratched his chin and pointed at Arthur, then Lancelot, and finally Gwaine. "One of you three fellas is going as King Arthur."

Arthur frowned. "Actually—"

The bartender plowed on, oblivious to the prince's incredulous protests. He waved his hand in the sulking Morgana's direction. "You must be the legendary Lady Guinevere," he decided at the expensive dress and intricate hair and makeup that had somehow managed not to get smudged or messy in the slightest during the chase through the Darkling Woods back in Camelot.

She rolled her eyes and sneered unattractively. " _Please_  don't insult me!" she scoffed.

Gwen, Arthur, and Lancelot all glared at her and said in unison, "Watch it!"

Morgana smirked and returned to her pouting.

The blonde bartender laughed when he saw Gwen and Merlin. "And you two are obviously going as servants. Honestly, if I had a choice about who to be at the coolest medieval festival in the tri-state area, I'd go as someone  _cool_." He grinned. "If I didn't have to work, I'd be at the festival right now, and I'd go as the coolest character ever – Merlin."

Arthur choked on his last sip of root beer and it spewed out of his mouth and into the bartender's face, who didn't look too pleased. " _Mer_ lin?" the prince laughed. "You think  _Merlin_  is  _cool_?"

The man shrugged. "Yes. Yes I do."

Arthur shook his head and chuckled even harder, now thoroughly convinced that the man was completely out of his mind. Merlin, on the other hand, was staring at the bartender curiously. "Come on," Arthur said, waving toward the door with his arm. "We'll go to this 'festival' and find out if someone there can help us."

As everyone began to file out, Merlin stuck behind to talk to the man behind the counter. "You spoke of Merlin and Arthur and Guinevere," he said softly, checking behind him to make sure that no one was listening in to the conversation. He had to figure out just what was going on.

The man – well, he was really more of a teenager than anything – nodded. "Yep. You know the stories, right? King Arthur, his old magical mentor Merlin, the knights of the round table…? That's why Phineas and Ferb are throwing this awesome Camelot festival! They always make the coolest stuff in their backyard and I almost always get exclusive passes since I'm so close to them." He grinned and brushed blonde hair out of his eyes and readjusted the strange hat on his head. "Anyway, I've got to get back to selling gas and slushy dogs. Want to buy one?"

Merlin blinked a few times and then shook his head. "Erm… no thanks."

"Okay, dude. See you around." As Merlin turned to leave and catch up with the others, the guy continued, "I'm Jeremy by the way."

Merlin smiled. "Merlin."

Jeremy chuckled. "Sure. See you around, 'Merlin.'"

As Merlin left the store, he was almost run over by a frantic red-haired teenage girl wearing a short dress and waving a pink little device in her fist, blubbering about busting someone and a "Jer-Bear" and Merlin decided to give her a wide berth. He didn't stick around to see why she was so eager to get in the store to talk to Jeremy. Instead he rushed to catch up with a very looking grumpy Arthur who was busy following the directions on the flyer to this "festival."

Maybe someone there would know what was going on.

* * *

Perry the Platypus pattered up to Dr. Doofenshmirtz's front door before observing the obstruction casually, rubbing his beak in thought. Finally deciding on a good course of action, the secret agent platypus kicked the door down and landed in the middle of the evil scientist's lair. He crouched down, ready to fight, when his arch foe's voice rang irritably across Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated.

"Perry the Platypus,  _what_  was the point of the key I gave you again?" Perry cocked his head, his little fedora perched on top. "Oh don't give me that look," Doofenshmirtz insisted as he stomped out into the open, some sort of little silver device with a big red button in his long, gangly hands. He was a tall, skinny man with a shock of wild brown hair on top of his head, a huge, beak-like nose, and gangly limbs. He wore a white lab coat and always had a strained, annoyed look on his face. His chin jutted out almost as far as his nose. "After my landlord threatened to evict me if I had another Perry-shaped hole in the door, I gave you a key so you wouldn't burst right in here."

Perry looked at the floor, ashamed. Doofenshmirtz frowned. "And then you don't even have the decency to land under my trap."

Perry blinked and chattered. Doofenshmirtz smirked. "A little to the left, Perry the Platypus."

Sighing, Perry scooted over to the left. He supposed it was fair enough to walk into the trap after he had disregarded his enemy's hospitality. A cage fell from the ceiling when he stepped in the offending trap-zone and Perry was stuck inside. The platypus glared at Doofenshmirtz and wrapped his front paws around the bars of the cage while the villain laughed maniacally.

"Hahaha – I have caught you, Perry the Platypus, and now I will tell you about my newest invention!" He pulled the cover off of a giant ray-shaped thing in the middle of the room. A colorful, threatening ray gun nearly as tall as the bad guy was revealed. "I present to you my… Young-inator!"

Perry didn't look impressed.

Doofenshmirtz went on. "Back-story time!" The tone of the moment went sepia as Doofenshmirtz gazed into his memory and began to talk. "Back in Gimmelschtump, in the days of my youth, the Doofenshmirtzes were a proud family. But those were lean times for my father, and our beloved lawn gnome was repossessed. Who would protect our ancient garden from witches, spells, and wood trolls? From a tender age, my father decided that it will be me. While the other kids played kick the schumptel and ate doonkelberries, I would stand for hours. All through the cold night, as the spitzenhounds howled... My only companion was the moon. And my neighbor Kenny.*" Perry made his platypus noise and Doofenshmirtz glared at him. "What do you mean you've already heard this story, Perry the Platypus?"

Perry gurgled and full color returned as Doofenshmirtz was yanked out of his past.

The scientist looked embarrassed. "Oh… oh… you mean I told you when I stole all the lawn gnomes in the tri-state area?"

Perry chattered.

"Oh, how embarrassing, Perry the Platypus. I'll just skip this bit and move onto the next part of my plan, okay?"

Perry rolled his eyes.

"It always made me so angry that my father could make me do anything he said, just because I was a child. If I hadn't been ten years old, I could have told him that I wouldn't be a lawn gnome. And then it occurred to me – children always have to listen to adults! So if I want to take over the tri-state area, it will be as simple as doonkelberry pie if everyone else in the tri-state area is a ten year old child! So I have the Young-inator pointed to the satellite above the tri-state area… and when the timer counts down, everyone in the tri-state area will be ten years old, and I will be their ruler by default because I will be the only adult! Hahahaha!"

Perry's eyes widened and dramatic music began to play. Doofenshmirtz glanced around. "Where the heck is that music coming from?"

Perry shrugged before using the mini-blades built into his fedora to saw his way out of the cage and launch himself at Doofenshmirtz. The evil scientist could be heard yelling "Hey, Perry the Platypus, no fair!" before they began rolling around on the floor, fighting in a comical, kid-friendly, and totally non-violent way, complete with humorous sound effects for further anti-violence.

Everything was going well until Doofenshmirtz threw Perry into the Young-inator and the platypus accidentally knocked the "FIRE!" button… and knocked the ray gun to the side where it was no longer pointing at the satellite that would distribute it over the tri-state area… but at a group of strangely-clad young men and women that were walking down the road toward the Flynn-Fletcher house.

Perry quickly hit the "off" button but it was too late – the beam of light hit its target and enveloped them.

* * *

When the light cleared, a group of disgruntled and slightly giddy ten-year-old children stood in the place of the group from Camelot. Arthur blinked and realized that he was suddenly inches shorter. His eyes grew big as saucers as he noticed his friends and evil she-witch of a sister, all of whom seemed to have shrunk dramatically and who looked equally weirded out. "This can't be good, can it?" Merlin asked before clapping his hands over his mouth in shock at his high pitched voice. His hands were tiny when he looked at them and everything seemed so…  _big_.

Glaring furiously at his now ten-year-old servant, the child-Arthur Pendragon glanced around at all his friends and responded angrily, "No. No it's most certainly  _not_."


	3. Welcome to Ferb-e-Lot!

"Hey, Phineas! Whatcha  _do_ in'?"

Phineas grinned widely at the pretty, black-haired, pink-bowed girl that stood right outside the gate to the Flynn-Fletcher backyard, grinning widely and blinking her big blue eyes at him. As usual, the red-haired ten-year-old picked up no signs of Isabella Garcia-Shapiro's blatantly obvious flirtatious admiration for her friend and she sighed dejectedly. For such a brilliant kid, Phineas sure was blind when it came to matters of the heart.

"Hey, Isabella!" Phineas said cheerily, and then acknowledged his other friends that were trailing behind the Fireside Girl. "Hi, Buford, Baljeet!" He grinned at Isabella's fellow Fireside Girls that were never too far behind their trusty leader. "Hi girls!"

"Hi Phineas!" Holly, Katie, Madison, Adyson, Gretchen, Milly, and Ginger said in unison, batting their eyelids teasingly in Isabella's direction as they did so.

The infatuated girl blushed as pink as her bow and dress before speaking up again, her eyes roving over the knights and horses and lances and swords and medieval clothes and jousting tournaments in the backyard. "Wait a sec," she said, brow furrowed. "I thought you guys've already had a medieval tournament. Remember? When you went to go visit your grandparents in London?"

Ferb quirked an eyebrow. Phineas nodded emphatically. "Ferb's right, Isabella. That was fun and all, but this isn't just  _any_  old medieval festival." He grinned, spreading his arms wide as trumpets tooted and an armor-clad man rode out into the middle of the backyard arena, brandishing a jouster. "Welcome to  _Ferb-e-Lot!_ "

"What kind of a stupid name is that?" the stocky bully, Buford Van Stomm asked grouchily as he gave the nerdy Baljeet a very painful looking wedgie. Baljeet squeaked in meager protest. "Shut up, Nerd. Or I'll give ya an  _armor_  wedgie."

Baljeet's coffee colored skin paled considerably. "That does not sound like very much fun," he admitted in his Indian accent.

Buford grinned wickedly, showing all he teeth (and lack thereof as there were several missing). "Oh trust me, Nerd – it's fun. For me."

"Oh," Baljeet said, dejected. "That does not sound comforting." Buford just snickered.

Phineas watched the two interact without much interest as the infamous bully/nerd relationship between Buford and Baljeet was a common sight. When they had finished (or rather, when Buford had finished with Baljeet's underpants), he continued as if nothing had happened, "Ferb-e-Lot. Get it? Like 'Camelot.'"

Everyone's eyes grew wide with recognition. "Oooooh," all of the kids breathed in unison.

"I  _love_  the story of King Arthur and Lady Guinevere!" Isabella gushed, eyes gleaming. "The romance, the heartbreak, the love…" She blinked her eyes repeatedly at Phineas once more, who looked at her, a little concerned.

"Do you have something in your eye, Isabella?"

Isabella pouted. "No. It's fine."

Phineas grinned. "Alright, then – who wants to joust against the greatest knight in all the land to prove his worth?"

"Who is this knight, huh?" Buford asked, cracking his neck then his knuckles. "I'll show him whose boss."

Phineas poked his thumb over his shoulder to point to Ferb, but his brother had already disappeared to get ready for the jousting match. "Hey," said Phineas, eyebrows coming together slightly. "Where's Ferb?" There was a gurgling sound and he looked down to see Perry at his feet. He grinned. "There you are, Perry!" He scratched his chin (well, if one can actually  _have_ a chin when their head is shaped like a slice of pizza, but that's really just a rambling musing of the author and has nothing to do with the plot). "You know, it's weird. I find Perry and I lose Ferb."

"Oooh," Adyson, one of the Fireside Girls breathed as she pointed toward the elaborate jousting arena the boys had built in the backyard within the time span of thirty minutes. "Who's  _that_?"

A regal looking knight sat atop a black horse, a giant flume of a red feather protruding from his helmet. Phineas laughed. "Oh, there you are Ferb!"

"Ferb's a knight?" Baljeet asked a bit skeptically.

"Ain't he a little  _short_  to be a knight?" Buford protested dubiously.

The knight on the fine horse lifted up the visor of his helmet, revealing Ferb's face. "Yes, yes I am."

Phineas nodded solemnly. "You know," he said, looking at each of his friends in turn, "Ferb may be a man of little words, but when he does speak, it's always words of wisdom."

"Here, here!" Baljeet agreed enthusiastically.

"Now," Phineas went on as his brother pulled down the visor. "Who wants to be the first to joust the great and powerful Sir Ferb of Danville?"

"I accept your challenge."

Everyone's heads swung around to see a group of kids that were unfamiliar but dressed in what looked like authentic medieval attire. There were six of them and they all looked to be about the same age as Phineas, Ferb, and their friends.

There were two girls. One of them had dark skin, dark brown hair, and big, pretty brown eyes. She was wearing a purple dress and her hair was curly. The other was sulking, with long, wavy black hair pulled into a braid and wearing a princess dress. She was very pale and her hands, even though she was young, were slender and ladylike. Buford's mouth flew open. He thought she was  _very_ pretty.

Then there were the boys. Three of them were wearing armor, one of them was not. The one without armor was a little taller than Phineas, with pale skin, big blue eyes, and a curious expression – an expression that had been on Phineas's face many,  _many_ times before. In fact, it was the very expression that he usually adopted right before crowing, "Hey, Ferb, I know what we're gonna do today!" or "I wonder what Perry does in his spare time?" or "Hey, what's Candace doing making a jello sculpture of Jeremy Johnson?" Phineas had a feeling that this boy, whoever he was, liked to learn new things, too, and decided that they would become fast friends. This boy, too, had abnormally disproportionate body parts (his ears were sticking out rather distinctly from his messy dark hair and Phineas had a huge, triangular head for his little body) and he looked like he would be an all-around fun guy.

Then there were the three kids wearing chainmail. The first had black hair parted neatly down the middle. His eyes were dark and serious and Gretchen the Fireside Girl nearly swooned when he looked at her. The other boy had long brown hair, a mischievous grin on his round, boyish face, and was clutching a bottle of root beer in his hand. His mouth was sticky with soda stains and it appeared that he'd been drinking a  _lot_  of soft drinks. He also seemed to be about to burst out of his skin he was so hyper from all the sugar. He was shaking slightly, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and the kids that had grown up with this kind of sugar intake and were used to it knew that it would only be a matter of time before he blew.

The third kid was a good head shorter than the boy not wearing armor and  _not_ looking very pleased with his lack of height. He apparently hadn't hit his (or even  _a_ ) growth spurt yet and apparently that was something he wasn't happy about. He had blonde hair, blue eyes, and a determined face as he stared at Ferb on his horse. "I accept your challenge," he repeated.

* * *

Gwaine chose that moment to let loose of all the energy he had accumulated from all the root beers and ginger ales (and even a few drinks called "Red Bulls" that had made him ever so happy, if not drunk). " _Wheeee!_ " screeched the ten-year-old knight of the round table as he began to run in nauseating circles, hands waving in the air. "I wanna fight him, please please please, Artie, you've gotta lemme fight him!"

Little Arthur crossed his arms over his skinny chest. "It's  _Arthur_."

Gwaine paid him no mind. "WOW, do I  _love_ this stuff! They need this back in Camelot, I can see it now…" He hiccupped and started spinning in circles. "Ring around the banshee, Arthur is a pansy, root beer, root beer, we all… fall… DOWN!" And with that, the sugar loaded ten-year-old Gwaine promptly crashed, falling to the ground in a dead sleep, snoring like the twenty-sum-odd man he was somewhere deep inside.

A girl wearing a pink dress and bow looked a little concerned. "Is he… gonna be okay?"

"Trust me," Merlin said, grinning, "for Gwaine, this is almost…"

"Normal," Lancelot finished for his friend.

"Well, in that case," the red-haired boy said, "I'm Phineas. That," he indicated to the helmeted knight on the horse (a knight who, the Camelotians noticed, had extraordinarily short legs), "is my brother Ferb. This is Isabella, Baljeet, and Buford. And these are the Fireside Girls. Who are you guys? We've never seen you around. But you're from Britain, right? That's what your accents sound like, anyway. Ferb's from London, too, isn't that cool?"

He said all this very fast and only Merlin, who normally talked in a rush and was therefore able to attune himself to other people doing the same, and Arthur, who was used to Merlin speaking so fast to him and had therefore taught himself how to attune himself to fast-talking, understood him.

Merlin grinned, sticking out his hand. "I'm Merlin," he said, grinning, "and this is Arthur. The man – er, boy – on the ground is Gwaine." The whole time he said this, Phineas's eyes got wider and wider but Merlin was so intent on his introductions that he didn't notice. "This is Gwen and that's Lancelot. And that's…" he trailed off, eyes wide. "Oh no," he said softly.

Lancelot glanced around before burying his head in his hands as he noticed the lack of evil lying she-witch of doom.

"Hey," Gwen said, in order to break the awkward silence more than anything, her eyes roving from her old friends to her new ones as she glanced about, "where's Morgana?"


	4. It's Jousting Time in Danville!

Morgana was mad.

No, scratch that, she was  _furious_. Not only had her plan to completely annihilate Arthur failed miserably, but she was stuck in a two-dimensional world full of weird, annoying people with too-big eyes, high-pitched voices, and weird contraptions.  _And_  she was ten years old again – which meant that her magic didn't work right. She'd already tried it but since she hadn't even known she had magic at ten years old, let alone how to control it, her magic had gone and hidden inside of her just like it had done when she was a child.

She had slipped out of the place called "Ferb-e-Lot" almost as soon as they had gone to it. She had to get away from her brother and Merlin and Gwen and those doofus knights and figure out how to get away from here. She wanted to go back to Camelot  _now!_

She was stomping down the sidewalk when suddenly a red-haired girl wearing a short dress ran by, face pale and eyes wide. She looked terrified. Despite the fact that the girl was a teenager and much taller than Morgana was now, the ten-year-old squeezed her eyes shut and screamed out, "Hey, you!"

The girl spun, eyes looking around for who had spoken but seeing no one at her eye level. "Who's there?" she asked.

"I'm down  _here_ ," Morgana said flatly, eyes narrowed.

The girl looked down. "Oh, great, another one of my brothers' friends."

Morgana looked insulted. "I am  _not_  their friend," she snapped. "I am the Lady Morgana of Camelot and I _demand_  that you tell me where I am, what Danville is, and how I get out of here!" She sounded like a petulant child because, well, she  _was_  a petulant child.

The girl snorted. "Did they wipe your mind with one of their machines? Oh, oh, oh! I'll show you to Mom, then maybe she'll believe – no, that's stupid. She won't believe that. Wait, what am I doing? I'm supposed to be running!"

Morgana gave the girl a strange look. "From  _what?_ "

"That," the strange teenager said, pointing a finger behind Morgana.

Morgana turned. All she could see was the man who had been at the bar with a little girl smaller than even Morgana, hair blonde and in pigtails. "Who  _is_  that man?" Morgana asked, ready to try and fight him off if he gave her trouble.

"Not him," the other girl said, backing away even as she waved at the guy. "He's my boyfriend… that's his little sister,  _Susie Johnson_."

Morgana snorted. "She doesn't look scary, she's just a little kid."

" _EVIIIIL!_ " the red-haired girl cried before darting away.

The boy and his sister walked up to Morgana. "Oh hey, kid," he said, "I remember you from earlier at Mr. Slushy Burger gas station! Did you have fun at Ferb-e-Lot? I really wish I could've gone. I'm Jeremy, by the way, and this is my little sister, Susie."

"Bubbles!" Susie said in an extremely high-pitched and babyish voice, her huge blue eyes blinking innocently several times. Morgana wasn't fooled for a second, though. She had used the same kind of technique for over a year, batting her eyelashes and smiling sweetly at those she wanted to deceive into thinking she was good. This girl had another agenda. There was more than just cuteness in her – she was devious and manipulative, just like Morgana.

"Susie," Morgana said in an all-too-sweet voice, "I think you and I will be  _great_  friends."

* * *

"Arthur, you can't just go and joust some little kid!" Merlin protested as Arthur got ready for the tournament. "You could hurt him! It's unfair; you're a battle-trained warrior, he's not! Besides, we have to find Morgana – who knows what kind of trouble she'll get into running around here!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Thank you,  _Mer_ lin," he said haughtily, still managing to sound like an arrogant prat even whist ten years old, "but need I remind you that as of right now, Sir Ferb of Danville and I are the same age. There's no advantage. And as for  _Morgana_ , she's also ten and powerless. We'll go after her later… or maybe we could just leave her here…" He trailed off and suddenly Merlin felt  _very_  sorry for the occupants of Danville.

"Sire, I—"

"It's okay, guys!" Phineas quickly stepped in, reassuring the two bickering newcomers. "Ferb's a lot stronger than he looks – he's up for the challenge, aren't you, dude?"

Ferb gave them a thumbs up.

Arthur's brow furrowed. "What's a  _dude_?" he asked, unfamiliar with the terminology that this triangular kid was using.

"Dude is a slang word used to refer to one's peers," the Indian kid, Baljeet informed the newcomers, "but in actuality, a  _dude_  is an infected hair on an elephant's posterior."

The beefy boy with a skeleton's head on his shirt growled, "Shut up, nerd – wait," he amended from his usual bullying, his eyes growing wide. "You mean a dude is a sick hair on an elephant's behind?"

Baljeet's eyes were wide. "Er… yes, yes it is."

"Cool," Buford said. He grinned. "I'll still give you a wedgie later, nerd."

"I would expect nothing less," Baljeet said in a high-pitched whimper.

The Camelotians watched the strange exchange without comment. Gwaine was still passed out from his sugar-induced crash. Gwen was chatting with Isabella about boys that just couldn't take a hint. Lancelot was pouting. Arthur and Merlin simply watched. Merlin started to ask what a "wedgie" was but was afraid to, especially since it didn't sound like something he'd enjoy and didn't want Arthur to test it out on him sometime. He decided to stay silent.

"Are you ready?" Arthur asked as he scrambled onto his horse.

Ferb gave another thumbs up.

"Alright," Phineas grinned. "Let the games begin."


	5. Hey, Arthur, We're Stuck Like This!

"I hope we run into Candace again," Jeremy said as he, Susie, and Morgana walked down the street. "I was going to ask her if she'd watch Susie while I'm working the evening shift at Mr. Slushy Burger."

Morgana glanced at Susie and expected the little girl to protest at the thought of being babysat. Morgana had once protested as much when she was little – she had always been very independent, even as a child, which, it seemed, she was again. Instead of pouting and/or crying, like Morgana may have done when she was Susie's age, about four or five, Susie giggled girlishly and said, "Bubbles!"

Morgana stared at her. Maybe Susie wasn't as conniving as she had assumed. Or maybe, she decided as a glimmer of mischief sparked in the blond girl's eyes, that was just what Susie wanted her to think.

Speaking up, still not accustomed to her high-pitched, childish voice, Morgana said, "I'll watch her."

Susie looked at the ten-year-old skeptically and quirked an eyebrow. "Bubbles?" she squeaked and Jeremy laughed. Wow, little Morgana thought, that man is such an idiot.

"Sorry, kid," Jeremy said and if Morgana had been her real age and able to use magic, she would have smote him right there. I'm older than you in real life – stop calling me kid! "But you're not much older than Susie."

Morgana made a face at being treated like such a child… even if she was one. "Well, let's go to Candace's house," Jeremy decided. "Who knows, maybe Ferb-e-Lot is still going on and with any luck Candace will be there too!" He grinned naively down at his little sister who blinked innocently and giggled in a ridiculously high-pitched and sweetly innocent way.

Morgana glanced between the blonde siblings before deciding to accompany them. As much as she already disliked the ignorant Jeremy, his sister was a bit of a mischievous riddle – and besides, they had to be better company than her idiot brother and his friends, not to mention the strange, colorful people that were far too happy for her liking. She trudged on, scowling while Jeremy talked to Susie in a babyish voice and Susie responded with various forms of the word 'bubbles'. She wasn't sure what Susie's agenda was, but it was obvious that until she was separated from her big brother, she was going to keep pretending to be an innocent, sweet little girl.

She had to find a way out of here before all her brain cells died of loneliness.

Arthur wasn't sure how it happened. One minute his little ten-year-old self was on a horse, trotting across the strangers' backyard with a lance in one little arm, the next, he was flat on his back, staring up into the branches of the single large tree in the yard. He blinked several times and a childish, slightly chubbier version of Merlin's face popped into his vision, looking down at him, blue eyes wide and comical. "What happened?" Arthur asked, his young voice grating at his nerves.

"And the jousting tournament goes to… Sir Ferb!" Phineas's voice entered Arthur's consciousness and he gaped, taken aback.

His voice shrill and large blue eyes brimming with tears – honestly, where had they come from? It wasn't like he was actually ten years old, right? He was a twenty-one year old locked inside of a ten-year-old's body! – and said incredulously, "I… lost?"

Merlin nodded solemnly. "How does it feel to be bested by a boy with green hair?" he wondered. He wasn't trying to be sarcastic. He just really wanted to know, since this was the first time he had ever met someone with green hair, thus never have being beaten by one before. He was honestly curious.

Arthur struggled to his feet to see everyone crowded around the short kid with strange hair, congratulating him – even Gwen! Gwaine, for his part, had finally woken up from his sugar-crash induced sleep and groaned, "Whassat?"

Isabella correctly interpreted his slurred question as "What happened?" and promptly responded, "Ferb won the joust against Arthur!"

Non-scruffy, candy-hogging, young-Gwaine leaped to his feet, grinning widely. "Ha!" he squealed, jumping from one foot to another, still not rid of his nervous energy. "You've been served!" He wasn't even sure where he had picked up the expression considering he had been passed out from too much sugar intake most of the time, but he liked the sound of it nonetheless.

Arthur glared stonily at Merlin, who giggled. "No," he said. "No, I haven't."

"She's back!" Lancelot's call brought everyone's attention to a small, grumpy Morgana marching into the backyard, the same blonde man from the "Gas" place behind her, carrying a small, yellow haired girl with big, adorable eyes in his arms.

"Morgana!" Arthur squeaked, rushing forward. "You are so under arrest when we get back to Camelot!"

"Whatever, loser," Morgana snapped petulantly, sticking out her tongue. Arthur stuck his back out at her. Buford got bored and gave Baljeet a wedgie while Merlin looked on in horror. Nope, he definitely didn't want Arthur to find out what a wedgie was! That did not look comfortable.

Merlin was confused as he got an urge to spin in circles until he got sick. What was going on with him? Why did he suddenly want to play knights and bandits, chasing his other friends around the yard and pretending to swordfight with sticks? Why did he want to find his mother and have her read him a bedtime story? The truth dawned on Merlin and he gasped, watching his old friends interact with each other and the new ones, acting more like the ten-year-olds they had become than their actual grown-up selves.

"Oh no," he whispered hoarsely. They may have started out as ten in just appearances, but now… their minds were becoming conformed to their age. They were becoming children, through and through.

"Hey, Arthur?" Merlin said a bit hesitantly, resolutely resisting the urge to roll down a hill just for the fun of it.

"Yeah?" Arthur asked, eyes burning with a childish yearning for excitement.

"I know what we're going to do today."

"What?" Arthur asked, curious.

"We're going to be stuck as ten-year-old's forever!"

Thankfully, Merlin and his friends weren't quite all gone yet. They still had a shred of adult left in them.

"WHAT?" Gwen gasped.

"But—" Lancelot protested.

"NOOO!" Morgana shrieked.

"Wait, what are you talking about?" Phineas asked.

"We're actually adults," Lancelot explained, "but we got turned into kids after we were somehow transported here from Camelot. And now we're going to stay young forever!"

"Sweet!" Gwaine said, spinning in circles and collapsing.

"Oh no!" Gwen sighed. "Gwaine's already succumbed to the childishness!"

"No," assured Arthur, "he's just being Gwaine."

"I'm so confused," Isabella admitted.

"Join the club," Jeremy conceded.

Candace ran out into the yard, eyes crazed as she took in the scene. "I'm telling Mom!" she vowed, scampering out of the house.

"Wait," said Jeremy, "Candace could you watch Susie for me this evening?"

"EVIL!" Candace shrieked before looking into Jeremy's eyes and melting. "Sure, whatever you say, Jer-Bear."

Susie grinned evilly. Morgana grinned with her.

Baljeet shook his head. "I do not understand what is happening!" he cried out.

"Bubbles!" cried Susie.

"Where's Perry?" Ferb wondered.

Perry gurgled.

"Oh, there you are, Perry."

Finally, unable to take it any longer, his head spinning and mind buzzing, he yelled, his voice magically amplified, "QUIIIIEEEET!"

He had to figure something out. If he didn't find a way to turn them back, they'd be stuck in this confusing, two-dimensional, colorful, happy world forever. And even though Merlin was a generally confusing, colorful, and happy person, he didn't know how much more of this he could take. Otherwise, they would be stuck like this… forever.


	6. Secrets, Time Machines, and Narnia?

It took a while, but finally the Camelot bunch had explained the truth to Phineas, Ferb, and the others, who were looking on with dumbfounded expressions. The story in itself didn't take long to tell (especially since Merlin conveniently left out anything that might pin the magic on him), but rather it was the interruptions that made it so. With each passing minute, Merlin, Arthur, Gwen, Gwaine, Lancelot, and Morgana succumbed more to the ten-year-old they were becoming.

Gwaine giggled at the most inappropriate moments, jumped up and down, and almost flattened Buford in an attempt to get to the ice cream truck – the driver of which was so terrified by the sugar-lusting ten-year-old that he abandoned his vehicle and ran down the road, screaming, arms waving in the air. Gwaine had happily licked five kinds of popsicles before going into another sugar coma. His antics caused the biggest distraction.

Then there were the snappy, immature insults going back and forth between Arthur and Morgana. She called him a gross cootie-man and he called her a psychopathic platypus, which was the first thing that came to mind, and to which Perry gurgled indignantly. Isabella and Gwen kept whispering about boys, giggling girlishly while staring at Arthur, Lancelot, and Phineas in turn.

Suffice it to say, getting the story straight was hard, made even more difficult by the fact that Merlin himself was  _really_  wanting to catch that hoppy grasshopper that just darted by. He supposed his magic was giving him a bit of protection, but not for long, he feared. He didn't want to be a kid forever; he  _had_  to find a way out of this.

When he was done telling their story, Candace snorted. " _Puh-_ lease. You  _honestly_ expect me to believe that you're  _Merlin and Arthur_  from those stupid kid stories Grandpa likes to tell? The same guys that dad rants and raves about at history museums?" She scoffed. "Yeah right." She laughed at little Merlin. "You don't even have a beard!"

Merlin's lower lip trembled and he had to force himself not to cry. He hated himself for being so emotional, but he was ten years old, exhausted, and Candace was yelling at him. To his surprise, Arthur stood in front of him, forty pounds of pure defensiveness, and said, "Hey, you leave him alone! And why would he have a beard? He's only ten!"

"But it's not possible – they  _don't_  have time machines in the past!" Candace protested.

"We didn't come here by machine," Lancelot said, his eyes following a flitting butterfly curiously, "but by magic."

Merlin glared at him, warning him to say no more.

"BAHAHAHA!" Candace laughed. "Magic? There's no such thing!"

Phineas scratched his chin (or rather, lack thereof) and said, "Well, Candace, maybe they  _did_  travel with some kind of magic. After all, in the stories, Merlin was the greatest wi—"

"—window cleaner of all time!" Merlin quickly cut in, desperately trying to keep his secret safe. He didn't know how Phineas and the others knew about his magic, or who he was, but he couldn't let Arthur know, even if he was ten years old, two-dimensional, and currently chasing a shrieking Morgana around the Flynn-Fletcher backyard with a stick.

Arthur stopped bugging Morgana and turned. "You are  _not_  a good window washer!" he protested loudly. "You leave smudges every time!"

"Oh,  _so sorry_ , Prince Dollop Head," Merlin retorted crabbily, crossing his arms over his skinny chest.

"Heh," Buford said, chuckling, "'dollop head'. I'm gonna hafta remember that one."

Merlin grinned. "I know, it's catchy right? I made it up myself."

Buford clapped Merlin on the back so hard the dark-haired boy did a face plant in the grass. "Ya know, dude," the bully said, "you're alright."

Merlin stood up, spitting out dirt and grass. "Thanks," he said, brushing himself off. "I think."

"Can we get back to the subject on hand?" Candace demanded. "As in, these kids are  _not_  Merlin and Arthur and the knights of the loud table—"

 _"Round_ table," Ferb corrected, and Perry chattered in agreement. Candace rolled her eyes impatiently.

"Whatever. The fact is, there's no such thing as magic." She saw that the rest of her companions were looking around at each other, exchanging thoughtful glances. She turned to Phineas. "Phineas, Ferb – you guys are nerds—"

"Hey!" Baljeet protested. "I am a nerd, too. And nerds do not like to be left out."

"Shut up, nerd!" Buford snapped.

"See? He understands me," Baljeet said timidly, cowering from 'his' bully.

"Fine. Phineas, Ferb, Baljeet – you are  _nerds_ , you like science and junk like that. So you can't seriously tell me you think  _magic_  could be real?"

"Why not?" Phineas said, shrugging. "After all, you didn't think Santa was real, but you found out otherwise last Christmas when we met those elves and brought Christmas back to Danville."

"Yeah, but— I mean—it's different… Fine." Candace crossed her arms and sulked. "I'm telling Mom as soon as she gets home."

"No please," said Gwen, "just wait until we leave. I don't want anyone trying to stop us from getting back to Camelot." She burst into tears. "I wanna go home!"

Lancelot flew to her side and hugged her. "There, there," he said.

"Crybaby," Morgana muttered.

Arthur glared at Lancelot, who let go of Gwen and went to try and revive Gwaine from his sugar-induced stupor.

"C'mon, Candace," Jeremy said, putting an arm around the red-haired girl. "Have a heart. Don't tell your mom, because if it gets out that  _the_  Arthur and Merlin are here, people will be swarming to see it. Besides, it'll be fun, right, helping out a king?"

"Prince," Merlin and Arthur corrected simultaneously.

Candace hadn't heard a word Jeremy said from the moment he put his arm around her but she grinned dopily and agreed. "Course, Jeremy. Whatever you say!"

Susie glowered at her big brother giving attention to another girl but couldn't do anything to sabotage Candace with so many witnesses, so she settled with sulking, which turned out could be a group activity, since Morgana was doing it too.

"Now that that's settled. We've used the time machine at the museum plenty of times before," Phineas said.

"Yep!" Isabella chirped chipperly, batting her eyelashes at her red-haired friend, who obliviously didn't notice.

"But…. We're still young," Merlin protested (or rather, whined, because he was just a kid, after all!). "We're supposed to be young adults. I don't know how we changed, but it wasn't magic that time."

"How would you know?" Arthur asked. "You don't know anything about  _magic_."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "It just  _wasn't_."

"Well, if it was technology that did that to you, then Ferb and I can find a way to counter it. Right, Ferb?"

Ferb gave his brother a thumbs up.

Phineas snapped his fingers excitedly. "Hey, Ferb, remember what our plans were  _before_  we decided to make Ferb-e-lot?"

Ferb nodded and pulled out a set of blueprints for a handheld device that made people age and de-age. "We wanted to see what Ferb would look like when he gets older," Phineas said. "I think he's going to have a moustache. A big one."

"Yeah, I can see it," Lancelot nodded seriously. "A big green moustache on the small, oddly shaped boy." His head was spinning from everything he'd seen and he  _really_  wanted to throw a ball to someone.

"So Ferb," Phineas grinned. "What do you say?"

"I know what we're going to do today," Ferb acknowledged, and they set to work.

* * *

"What's this?" Gwaine asked, eyeing a small device with a lot of buttons that had fallen out of Ferb's pocket while helping build the aging/de-aging machine with Phineas.

"Oh, that's a prototype of an invention we're working on," Phineas said, grinning. "A real-life remote control."

"What does it do?"

"Well—"

"Done!" announced Ferb.

"And it's not even dinner time!" Phineas crowed excitedly. "Let's test this baby out!"

Candace whimpered and turned to Jeremy. All the inventions and tattle-worthy happenings were making her crazy. "Can't I tell Mom, just a little?"

"No, Candace, let's let the nice figures of legend go home first." He touched her shoulder and she melted. Susie growled and Morgana did too, just because she could.

"Alright, who's first?"

At the same time, Merlin said, "Arthur," and Arthur declared, "Merlin."

Arthur glared at his servant and Merlin sighed. "Okay, okay. Me first."

He stepped out into the open and Phineas pointed the device at him, turned some dials, and pushed some buttons. He pushed the big red button and suddenly it wasn't a ten year old Merlin standing there, but what looked like a  _one hundred_  and ten year old Merlin. "Oops," Phineas said. "That's a little too old." He went about adjusting the dials, but the damage had been done.

Arthur stared incredulously, shocked out of his ten-year-old state of mind by what he was looking at. "You—you're—Dragoon the Great!"

"Who?" said Gwaine, Lancelot, Isabella, Buford, and Baljeet in unison.

"Long story," Arthur griped. "But that means – you have magic!"

"Erm, yes," Merlin said, rubbing the back of his neck (which was  _much_  too wrinkly and saggy for his liking, and holy root beer, was that a  _mole_  at the base of his neck? Gross. "I guess you could say that."

"You have magic!" Arthur said again, eyes wide.

"Uh, yeah, I do, but I swear, I've never used it for evil, nor will I ever—"

"You have magic!"

"Yes, I do, Arthur, I'm pretty sure we've covered this already!"

"You have magic!"

"Arthur—"

"Okay, okay, who's got the remote control?" Phineas laughed. Everyone turned to see Gwaine with the prototype real-life remote control pointed at Arthur, pressing the 'instant replay' button over and over, grinning like a madman.

"Sorry," he giggled, not looking sorry in the least.

Ferb shrugged, pocketing the remote. "At least we know it works."

"I  _so_  want to tell Mom," Candace muttered but shut up when Jeremy held her hand.

"Wait, did  _you_  bring us here?" Arthur asked, glad to not have to accuse Merlin of magic again, especially since he'd already done it four times.

Lancelot looked between master and servant tensely, as if afraid he might need to intervene.

Merlin started to rub the back of his neck again, nervous, but didn't want to touch that mole again. Instead he sighed, "Yes. But, Arthur, I didn't mean to take us  _here,_  just away from Morgana and her army, I couldn't let you die!"

"Merlin, I trust you. Even though you've lied to me, I know there's no way that you're evil. It's like saying that Gwaine is… normal."

"Hey!" Gwaine protested. "That's… probably true," he admitted.

"No, I'm actually more offended now that I know it was  _you_  that told me I was a, what was it again, Merlin, oh yes – 'a spoiled arrogant brat with the brains of a donkey and the face of a toad.'"

"Oooh," said Buford, "That's a good one too."

"Sorry, sorry," Merlin apologized. "But, you see, I had to get you back for the bucket and cloth incident, and that seemed the perfect time."

Arthur grumbled but finally said, "Touche."

Merlin would have responded but Phineas and Ferb had fixed the age dials on their devices and announced, "Done!"

Merlin grinned feeling like a weight had been lifted off of him now that Arthur knew and had accepted him. He didn't know if Arthur had been so trusting because he had the mind of a child, and children were usually trusting, but whatever the case, he was glad for it.

Phineas zapped him again, and this time, he was back to himself – twenty-one years old, tall, skinny, and all powerful, baby. Merlin was  _back_.

Arthur went next, then Gwen, then Lancelot, and Gwaine (but Arthur had to chase him around with the Aging Machine first, because Gwaine did  _not_  want to grow up again, but when Arthur mentioned the ale back in Camelot, he reluctantly surrendered). "Wait," said Merlin before Phineas could zap Morgana, too.

"Something wrong, Merlin?" Phineas wanted to know.

"No, but… Morgana, I want you to swear to me that you will call off the attack on Camelot and call off your undead army."

"Undead army, huh?" Buford interrupted yet again. "Where can I get me one'a them?"

Morgana ignored him. "And if I don't?"

"Then Phineas  _won't_  turn you back into yourself and you will be stuck as a child here in Danville instead of returning back to Camelot with us."

"I don't see why we just don't do that anyway," Gwaine muttered. "Why give her another chance?"

"Because," said Merlin, "Arthur's given me one, and besides, I'd  _hate_  to leave Danville alone with her."

Arthur chuckled.

"But—"

"Deal or no deal, Morgana?"

"Hey, I love that show!" Baljeet cheered, but a wedgie from Buford shut him up.

She scowled. "Fine. But even if I leave you alone for now, I'll be back eventually."

"And when you do, we'll be ready for you."

Morgana was zapped back into herself.

Merlin smiled at his new friends, who were now much shorter than he was . He found he was going to miss being a kid, miss Phineas and Ferb, and miss Danville. Still, it was time to go home. "Well, now that my secret's out, I guess we won't need that time machine after all," he told Phineas. "I'll just use magic to take us back." He glanced around at Ferb-e-Lot. "This was so cool, I wish we didn't have to leave."

"Take it with you," Ferb offered. "To remember us by."

"All of it?"

"Sure," Phineas chimed in. "We'll move on to a new project tomorrow, anyway."

"But, no!" Candace protested. "Then there'll be nothing to tell Mom… unless I get her now. Mo-om!" She disappeared into the house.

"Well, guess we'll get going," Merlin sighed.

"Yeah, it was fun," Arthur admitted, "but I've got to get back to my kingdom now."

"I'll miss the ice beer and the root cream and the Red Star and the Rock Bull," Gwaine said, mixing up the names of his favorite sweets and energy drinks, but everyone got the point.

"Don't worry, Izzy," Gwen told Isabella, hugging the girl. "It'll work out with Phineas. You'll see."

"Yeah, and good luck with your love life," Isabella said. "You'll need it."

"What was that?" Gwen cocked her head.

"Erm… nothing."

"Well, it was great fun!" Phineas said. "Say, Merlin, if you're ever wanting to time-travel again, give us a call, 'kay?"

"Definitely." He closed his eyes and started a spell but Arthur cut him off.

"I don't know if I feel  _safe_  traveling with you and your magic,  _Mer_ lin, seeing as  _you_  were the one that brought us here in the first place."

"Don't worry," Merlin said, grinning, "I was nervous last time. I'll get it right this time!"

He said a spell and he and his Camelotian friends, as well as the whole of Ferb-e-Lot, vanished into thin air. Seconds later, a breathless Candace led her annoyed mother into the yard. "See, Mom, see, right here, they made a medieval town and everything!"

"Oh, don't you guys look cute in your medieval costumes," Linda said, smiling at the kids. "Way to use your imaginations." She gave her daughter a look. "Maybe a  _wee_  bit too much imagination, Candace."

"But, but but—"

"So. Who wants pie?"

There was a chorus of "me"s and even Perry gurgled his agreement. Candace sighed as everyone went in for a snack and then shook her head. "One day I'll get them," she said to no one in particular.

"You coming, Candace?"

She smiled slightly, having to admit that when she wasn't spazzing out, the day had actually been pretty fun.

"Yeah."

She disappeared into the house and everything was back to normal once more.

* * *

They ended up in the middle of a snowy, freezing forest next to a lamppost. "This doesn't look like Camelot," Arthur said.

"Um, I'm  _sure_  I got the spell right this time," Merlin said anxiously, but no one looked convinced.

" _Mer_ lin, we've been to ancient Egypt, a place called Hogwarts, and on a flying blue box that says POLICE, and we're  _still_  nowhere  _near_  Camelot! I thought you were a powerful warlock!"

"I am… I'm just not good with directions."

"We should've used the time machine."

Merlin found he didn't disagree.

"Hullo," said a half-man, half-goat that stepped out of the trees. "Welcome to Narnia! My, you are Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve, aren't you?"

"Um, my mum's name is Hunith," Merlin said, scratching his head.

Arthur, a bit of the ten-year-old still plaguing him, sniffled. "I never knew my mother!"

"So sorry," Merlin said hastily. "We just got a bit lost. We'll be going now."

They vanished again, finally returning to Camelot – forty years in the future.

Watching an older Merlin walking beside an older Arthur across the courtyard, Arthur decided that would never happen in his future because he was going to kill Merlin here and now. He turned to his friend and yelled, "MERLIN!"

"Sorry?"

"You'd better be glad you're my ride home,  _Mer_ lin, or you'd  _so_  be dead by now!"

Merlin gulped and they disappeared again.

* * *

It was a long and eventful trip home, but eventually they made it back to  _their_  Camelot, and by the time they did, Arthur had decided he was too tired to strangle Merlin so he settled for a hot bath and warm bed instead.

Morgana kept her promise and withdrew her army and disappeared for the time being.

And as for Merlin, he was just happy his destiny was finally piecing together the way it should. All it had taken was a misdirected spell, a Young-Inator, and a couple of inventive, fun-loving kids to point the way.

**THE END**


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